Writer, California attorney, stumbling through the courtrooms of Southern California
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Monday, January 12, 2015

Sometimes the penalty of perjury isn't so bad

My client, the Plaintiff, was evicting the Defendant, a family
member, who lived in a room in my client's house. My client was fluent
English/Spanish. Defendant spoke Spanish, very little English. The
court did not provide interpreters and the Defendant didn't bring a
friend to help.

This was a non-payment case - Defendant
hadn't paid the rent. My client testified [under penalty of perjury]
that Defendant agreed to pay $500 per month in rent, and then failed to
pay. Defendant then took the stand and testified that he'd never agreed
to pay any rent at all.

Okay, this is a "he said, she
said" case. I've had these before. I whispered to my client to give me
his receipt book or whatever he had in writing, that evidenced payment
of rent.

Me, still clueless as to the meaning of this: "Ever? Was he *supposed* to pay rent and didn't?"

Plaintiff: "No."

Me, light beginning to dawn: "He never agreed to pay rent?"

Plaintiff: "No, he's a freeloader."

Me, finally figuring it out: "Then why did you serve a non-payment notice?"

Plaintiff: "Because it's the quickest."

*mental facepalm"

Learning
this information IN THE MIDDLE OF TRIAL is not fun, especially after
perjured testimony. Do all clients lie to their attorneys? Especially
when the fact will obviously be brought out in testimony? And the fact
will completely destroy the case?

So Defendant continued his
testimony - in seriously broken English - all the reasons why he
shouldn't have to move out [because, of course, he'd never been REQUIRED
to pay any rent, thank you very much], and admitting - proudly - to all
the things he did that drove Plaintiff nuts [and they would have driven
ANYONE nuts, including the judge]. The judge glanced in my direction
with a look that said "why did you take this case to trial?" I did all I
could do. I shrugged.

Fortunately for me, this judge was a
"realist" who tried to get things done. He correctly interpreted this
entire case as a huge family rift, with the Defendant as the problem
child, and decided to be unconventional.

Judge: "Counsel, do you mind if we conduct the balance of this trial in Spanish?"

Me,
knowing I have a loser case, and knowing the JUDGE knows I have a loser
case but wants to help, and hoping my high school Spanish isn't as
rusty as I think it is: "No, Your Honor, if we go slowly."

Judge: "You speak enough Spanish?"

Me: "Maybe, but my client can interpret for me if I get lost."

So
in violation of state law, the California Rules of Court, and probably a
bunch of other laws that I didn't care to know about, we conducted the
balance of the trial in Spanish. I've NEVER had to concentrate that
much in a trial, either before or since. It surprised me that I only
needed my client to interpret one word for me, "key". The judge, a
gringo like me who, unlike me, obviously kept up on his Spanish,
convinced the Defendant to move out in 30 days and he wouldn't have to
pay any money.

Judge: "Counsel, will Plaintiff accept that resolution?"

My client stared at me.

Me, in probaby-too-loud stage whisper: "Take it or we'll lose the case."

Plaintiff: "Are you sure?"

Me: "Yes!"

Plaintiff: "What if I don't want to?"

Me: "You perjured yourself."

Plaintiff: "What does that mean?"

Me: "You lied from the witness stand."

Plaintiff: "Is that bad?"

Me,
in a whispered hiss that probably sounded like air leaving a thousand
tires, possibly also accompanied by a mist of saliva: "Yesssssssssss."

So Plaintiff accepted the deal.

This
was the first trial, but definitely not the last trial, where I've
walked out of court wanting a bed and a pillow and no one bothering me
for 24 hours. Being required to be 100% focused on a trial, mentally
translating a language I haven't had to use since high school [which was
more years ago that I wanted to admit], was exhausting.

But in the end, my client was awarded possession of the property AND did not face perjury charges. It was all worth it.

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About Me

I took and passed the California Bar Examination back in the dark ages when we chiseled our answers on stone tablets by candlelight while ducking dinosaur feet. My first "job" was as a contract appearance attorney, highlighted in my current work-in-progress [hopefully published one day] tentatively called Not a Mother. After several years, I ran face-first into my mid-life crisis and accepted a real job as a real attorney [read: not self-employed] with a mid-size firm. I was laid off after three years and found a new job with a small California-only firm. I practice law, heavy emphasis on the word practice, as a trial attorney in Southern California. I enjoy being a lawyer and so far I enjoy writing about it.